


The Burdens We Bear

by arochilton



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU - instead of selling Chilton out to the FBI Will sneaks into the shower with him, Another Goddamn Yakimono AU, Blowjobs, Frederick is obsessed with Rome, Frederick isn't a dog person but the dogs are Frederick people, M/M, Night Terrors, Obsessive use of Hedwig and the Angry Inch Lyrics to justify Willton romance, Shower Sex, Snippy Sassy Will ain't taking shit from Jack, Will is fascinated with Chilton despite their history and his constant contradictions, Willton cuddles, angst and smut and fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-02-25 05:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2610203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arochilton/pseuds/arochilton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the man painted in blood came begging, Will Graham was faced with a choice.<br/>To make the best one, he must examine himself, the future, and most of all, his true feelings towards the shaken, disgruntled man on his doorstep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Washing Away the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said: it's Another Goddamn Yakimono AU.

_Last time I saw you, we just split in two._

_You was looking at me, I was looking at you._

_You had a way so familiar I could not recognize_

_‘Cause you had blood on your face, I had blood in my eyes_

_But I could swear by your expression_

_That the pain down in your soul_

_Was the same as the one down in mine…_

 

The very instant that a bloodied, shaking, and disgruntled Frederick Chilton arrived on his doorstep, Will Graham knew what he had to do.  
  
He had to call Jack Crawford.  
  
Anything else wasn’t an option. Will had no alternatives; this was his unspoken duty. Somewhere inside him, he knew this.  
  
“May I use your shower, please?” the words were spoken so politely, and Will could already tell that Chilton had been knocked off his ego-fueled pedestal. There was tragedy in his voice, that formal tone with just a slight falter revealing the reality of a shattered world. His eyes were filled with betrayal and loss. He had abandoned all hope, bar one tiny string.  
  
That string was Will.  
  
Will couldn’t even bring himself to ponder the idea that the psychiatrist had gotten what he deserved. Nobody deserved to be Hannibal Lecter’s personal puppet, no matter what kind of person they were.  
  
When Will looked at Chilton, betrayed by a man he had once considered a friend, he saw himself. He saw his future, confined to a dusty cell in the very prison Chilton had, until very recently, been in charge of. He saw a man with no positivity left in his body or mind other than the fleeting possibility that Will might show him an ounce of mercy.  
  
“Sure,” Will replied, ushering the man inside, making sure that all the dogs followed. The large white and brown shepherd stuck to Chilton like a magnet, constantly butting her head against the man’s knee as he stepped into the house.  
  
Chilton moved slowly and stiffly, obviously still a bit squeamish from the chloroform Hannibal had used to drug him. He was wedged in a harsh state of initial shock and panic, moving like a man thirty years his senior.  
  
“Upstairs, first door to the left,” Will told him, gesturing up the stairs. Chilton nodded in lieu of verbal thanks and started the trek up the stairs.  
  
As soon as he heard the bathroom door open and close, Will’s hand was in his pocket, drawing out his phone. He took a deep breath to collect himself. He had to do this. It was the best choice. It was his only choice.  
  
He was in the midst of dialing when the door upstairs opened. Chilton stood at the top of the stairs, naked from the waist up.  
  
“How do you turn on the shower?” he asked, almost timidly, looking slightly embarrassed. He obviously did not expect to find any shower-related difficulties. He shuffled his feet a bit, deciding to look at the ground rather than at Will. If he was self-conscious of the long, thin scar dominating his abdomen, he didn’t outwardly show it.  
  
Will put his phone back in his pocket, swore in his mind, and took the stairs two at a time.  
  
Will could smell the stench of dried blood on Chilton’s body as he neared the man. He crinkled his nose at it as he shuffled past him, making his way into the bathroom. He turned on the shower for Chilton, adjusting it so the water was warm enough to aid the man in scrubbing the blood off, but not so it emitted scalding levels of heat.  
  
“Thank you,” Chilton said genuinely, peering at Will with those pale green orbs.  
  
Will was struck by his expression. The trust that lingered there amidst the blood caked on his face shot a sentiment of compassion through him.  
  
“You’re welcome,” he replied. For a second, he thought the man was about to strip down naked in front of him. This supposition, however, he concluded, was ridiculous. Will exited the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and trudged back downstairs.  
  
Will was sitting in a chair listening to the water run through the pipes. His phone was in his hand, thumb hovering over “call.”  
  
Frederick Chilton needed help.  
  
Jack Crawford, he knew, would be angry and misinformed, which in turn would not help.  
  
Torn between conflicting emotions ravaging at his mind, Will put his head in his hands. Calling Jack was an obligation, but helping Frederick was moral. After all, what Will wouldn’t have given to have someone help him when he was the one framed for Hannibal’s murders.  
  
The image of Chilton’s half-naked body flashed through his mind. The man was well-built, with just a small amount of weight settled on his stomach, but not enough to halt his attractiveness. His waistband sat low enough that the V of his hips drew enticingly into his black dress pants. His broad shoulders and firm chest stayed ingrained in Will’s thoughts, and a sweep of lust overtook his brain for a moment before he turned his thoughts back to the task at hand.  
  
He could easily assist the man, Will realized slowly. He could offer him a place to stay. Granted, if Will were to make a list of desirable housemates, Frederick Chilton wouldn’t even make the cut, but this was a desperate situation. He could help him. After all, that’s why the man had appeared on his doorstep anyway.  
  
But he had to call Jack.  
  
Exasperated by contradictory sentiments, Will threw his phone hard at the wall, shattering the screen as it smashed with a sharp sound. It fell to the floor in a heap of broken glass, wires, and opportunity.  
  
Jack Crawford wasn’t needed. Not today.  
  
Will's throat burned. He rushed back up the stairs and knocked on the bathroom door before he really knew what he was doing.  
  
"Do you need any...help in there?" Will asked through the door, not really knowing what he was saying, mainly just wondering how easily the blood was washing off Chilton's face and hands.  
  
He seriously expected Frederick to bark at him to go away and leave him alone. It wasn't like the man to accept help in something he was very capable of doing himself. Even more, he was naked in the shower. With these thoughts echoing around his brain, Will was caught entirely off guard when the man responded with a quiet "please."  
  
He opened the door to see Chilton's blood-stained clothes strewn across the bathroom floor. He swallowed nervously, staring at the outfit and the horrors it held. Will's clothes quickly joined Frederick's in a heap as he stepped out of them. He turned to see a drenched Chilton standing in the shower, still partially bloody, soap in one hand, watching him with interest.  
  
"What are you doing?" he breathed as Will stepped into the shower, grabbing onto Frederick's shoulders for leverage. The man's tone wasn't hostile or aggressive in the least; he was simply asking a question. Will noticed the man's eyes glance quickly down at Will's lower abdomen, then snap back up to meet the special agent's eyes. A faint tingle of excitement shook Will's body.  
  
Will grabbed the soap from his hand and scrubbed it purposefully at the blood on Frederick's forehead before letting the water take over. The other man closed his eyes. The blood mixed with warm water, dripping down Chilton's face, his neck, his shoulders, trailing down until it reached the drain and disappeared from sight. Like a sacrifice. Frederick's hair, soaked from the steady stream of water, was longer now that it wasn't held in place by large amounts of gel and hairspray. His face looked tired, lost, and confused. Will was struck by how beautiful he was.  
  
"Helping you," he whispered in response to the question now nearly forgotten by both men. Will felt rejuvenated by the water from the shower head, hoping the other man was feeling the same effect. Leaning forward slightly, Will pressed his lips softly against Frederick’s.  
  
The other man's eyes shot open, but he didn't pull away. For a few seconds he remained still, then his hands enclosed Will's back, gripping him gently. He was still shaking slightly, but he was relishing in the kiss, moving his wet lips softly and slowly against Will's. Will could feel him relax, flush against his warm body. Chilton was calming down significantly.

The men pulled back, a stream of water falling between their faces. "Am I safe?" Frederick whispered, barely audible over the sound of pipes working and water hitting the floor of the tub. 

Will recognized that he was now extremely content with his earlier decision. The other man was calm, safe, happy even. He smiled as he replied, "Yes. You can stay with me until Hannibal Lecter is in custody. No matter how long it takes."

"Thank you," Chilton breathed, words stopping as Will silenced him with another soft kiss. The empath's hand came up to brush the man's shoulder with just a light touch, enough to send chills down Chilton's back despite the warm water serenading his body. 

"You've thought about this before, haven't you, Frederick?" Will breathed against his lips, words echoing a slight teasing hiss.

"Yes," the psychiatrist replied, voice low. Will noticed that his shoulders had stopped visibly shaking with prolonged fear. "Every single day, sitting in my office, watching you, admiring you, wishing I could touch you..." He reached up a finger, stroking Will's cheek lightly before winding his hand in his hair and kissing Will harder, pulling the man once again tight against him. Their hips brushed together and their cocks--Will's half-hard, Frederick's slowly growing harder--slid against each other for a quick moment. Chilton let out a gasp. 

Will bent down a bit, kissing Frederick's chest, slick from the shower, his mouth moving against a nipple. He kept going down, tongue trailing the white line of the scar, finding its end on the soft expanse of stomach. Will kissed his stomach briefly and kept moving down, down until he dropped to his knees, down until he gripped the base of the man's erection in his hand, down until he took Frederick Chilton's cock into his mouth in one hot, wet stride. Chilton seemed to register that this was actually happening, because his legs locked a bit and he let out a strangled "fuck" followed by long, whining moan as Will let one hand grip his hip, the other testing the weight of his balls.

"Will, please..."

The whole ordeal was much wetter and sloppier than was common thanks to the shower, but both men reveled in it. Water seeped into Will's mouth as he sucked rhythmically up and down the man's length, letting saliva slick the process even more. Will let the tip slide back until it hit the back of his throat. Gagging and feeling very much like a dirty whore, he licked his way along the underside of his partner's dick. He rolled Chilton's balls in his palm, enjoying the broken keens of pleasure emitting from the mouth of the man above him. 

Stroking quickly, Will was able to spread pre-come along Frederick's length before resuming lapping with fast bobs of his head. No longer just water and musk, the slight salty tang of pre-come made the taste just a little more enjoyable for the man on his knees.

Will swallowed Chilton's cock down as far as he could and looked up at him with big, angelic eyes. When the other man saw this, his own eyes rolled back in his head. "Fuck," he groaned. His legs were shaking again, but from pleasure this time, not fear. Frederick let a hand wander down to tangle in Will's soaked hair. 

The water was losing some of its warmth, which was marked by a shiver from Will. "The last thing either of us want right now is a cold shower," Chilton noted. 

"Then come," Will whispered, a commanding lilt present in his voice. He licked a stripe from the psychiatrist's balls to the tip of his cock before sucking him down. He slid his tongue along the heated flesh as he bobbed his head, a mess of slick saliva and wanton need. 

"Will, fuck-- _ah_!" was all the warning Chilton gave before he let go inside Will's mouth, groaning loudly as he did so. The empath's throat burned but he marveled in the taste of the man's cum. Once he had swallowed it all, he pulled off Chilton's cock with a pop! and swirled his tongue on the tip at an attempt to catch any fleeting droplets. 

Frederick helped Will to his feet. They were both shaking now, and the water was getting significantly colder. "Do you want me to-?" Chilton started, gesturing to Will's still-prominent erection.  

Will shook his head. "We're both going to turn into prunes if we don't get out of here. Don't worry, there's plenty of time for more fooling around. After all, we're housemates now."

Chilton smiled at that. They kissed again, soft and gentle with just a hint of tongue licking at the insides of each other's mouths. Will turned off the shower and helped Chilton climb out, offering him a towel.

Once the men had dried and dressed, Will carried Chilton's bags upstairs for him, settling them next to the bed in the guest room. Will never had use for the extra room before; when he moved from Louisiana he left all traces of second cousins and family friends among the bayous and pelicans. Will changed the sheets, knowing Frederick would prefer softer, sweet-smelling bedspread over the old, crinkled cloths that currently laid on the extra bed. He didn't offer Frederick the opportunity to sleep in his own bed yet. He figured that if it were to happen eventually, the proper time would present itself. 

When Will returned downstairs, he was greeted by the sight of Chilton sitting on the couch and surrounded by dogs, flailing his arms in a frantic attempt to pet all of their wiggling bodies and keep them at bay. Some were climbing on him, others nudging his legs incessantly. Hearing Will enter, Frederick looked up, a perplexed expression etched into his narrow features. Will started laughing, and for the first time since long before his incarceration, he was laughing a pure, genuine laugh. 

"While I appreciate knowing you possess the capability of laughter," Frederick began as Buster started licking his ear, "I would love a bit of help right now!"

Will tutted at the dogs, snapping his fingers to get their attention. "Come on, everybody! I already staked my claim on that one."

It was Frederick's turn to laugh now. A flash of white teeth threw his face into a wide smile. One by one, the dogs hopped off the couch, listening attentively to their owner. 

"Everybody outside!" Will commanded the pack, opening the back door and letting them rush outside, a furry mass of loud barks and playful growls. 

Will sat on the couch next to Frederick, examining his face. His hair had dried. Without hairspray, his bangs fell forward into his face. He looked calm and domestic, so different from the unorthodox therapist who had domineered Will's life in a chain of drug therapy and humiliation only a while ago.

"Promise I'll be safe here?" Chilton asked, voice cracking. 

Will gave him a stern look. "Even if I have to pin ears and a tail on you so you pass as a dog, you will not be found out. I promise."

"Thank you, Will," Chilton's pent-up sigh of relief was let go, and his face relaxed a large amount. Will was just leaning in to give him a kiss when the home phone rang.

"Shit, it's probably Jack," Will determined, standing up. A worried look crossed the other man's face. "Hey. I promised, didn't I?" Will kissed his forehead to make a statement before walking over to retrieve the phone. "Hello?"

"Will, it's Jack. You weren't answering your cell."

"Yeah, sorry about that. It broke earlier today. I was going to see about a replacement tomorrow."

If Jack cared about this, he didn't mention it. His voice barked over the receiver as he asked the inevitable question. "Have you had any contact, physical or otherwise, with Frederick Chilton in the past 24 hours?"

 _Only when I was choking on his cock a few minutes ago_. "No. I haven't seen or heard from him since I left his hospital."

"There were three dead agents on his property," Jack explained, voice still raised a bit. We have reason to believe he killed them. I think he's our guy, Will."

"He's _not_ your guy." Will swore if he rolled his eyes any more, they would fall right out of his head. He snuck a glance to Frederick, who was sitting on the edge of the couch, clinging to every word Will spoke, eyes narrowed.

"He has the same profile as the Ripper, access to the cases, plenty of-" Jack began, but Will didn't want to hear it. He wasn’t in the mood for this anyone-but-Hannibal-Lecter bullshit.

"Do you really think _Frederick Chilton_ killed Marissa Schurr, Dr. Sutcliffe, Georgia Madchen? Do you think he tortured Miriam Lass in some darkened hole for two years? Do you think he killed Abigail? I find that impossible." Will shot Frederick a look and mouthed "sorry." Frederick shrugged, still looking nervous.

"The evidence suggests-"

"He's not the Ripper, Jack."

Jack ignored this conclusion and continued peppering Will with questions. "Do you have any idea where he might flee to? They've cancelled his credit cards...his phone is off or dead, either way we can't track it. They're watching the airport security cameras as we speak..."

"Try Italy," Will suggested. "Chilton's got this huge obsession with ancient Roman stuff." On the couch, Frederick put his hands on his hips and mouthed "hey!" Will winked.

"That might be a start," Jack pondered. "Well, if he tries to contact you in any way, you know to call me immediately."

Will smiled. "Of course. Good luck." _You don’t know just how much bad luck I’ve set you up with._

"I'll keep you updated. Good evening, Will." Jack hung up, and Will put the phone back. 

"See?" Will wrapped his arms around the other man, kissing his ear playfully. "You're safe."


	2. Night Terrors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, it's been a while. I had completely forgotten about this fic, but then I stumbled across it in my old documents and realized that I wrote almost the entirety of it and just never posted it. So enjoy, and expect the rest soon!

_Oh, that’s the pain_

_That cuts a straight line down through the heart._

_We call it love._

After a quiet dinner without much conversation, the men went to sleep in their respective beds, Frederick fighting to keep the dogs out of the guest room as he prepared to settle down for the night. Will convinced the dogs to stay downstairs as he traipsed into his own room, leaving the psychiatrist to face the confines of sleep alone.

Will wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt so comfortable around Chilton despite their history. Perhaps it was the prospect of human company, or maybe it related to that connection he felt with the man who had just gone through the experience Will had only months earlier. Either way, he didn’t mind the small tingle of happiness that shook his spine whenever he looked at the other man.

Sleep came easily to Will for once. Getting out of the BSHCI came with significantly less night horrors, which Will was thankful for. However, the small house was not entirely free from nightmares that night.

Will was awoken several hours later to the sound of shrieks emitting from none other than the guest room. At first, he panicked, mind wandering to thoughts of an intruder, but then he realized the frightened yelps were the telltale noises of a night terror. Will was all too familiar with those loud shouts and terrified screams. He rushed into the guest room, flipping on the light switch and catching a glimpse of the man thrashing on the bed. Between screams, Will could make out the words “no,” “get away,” and “not me.” He swallowed carefully before stepping forward.

“Frederick,” he put a hand on the man’s chest, which was bare (Frederick had chosen to sleep in only his black pants).

“No, no, don’t hurt me, no…” his breaths were coming in quick gasps and chokes. A light sheen of sweat had settled on his forehead, making his body heat up. "No! Please! It's not me, please believe me! No, no!"

“Frederick,” Will said again, louder. Getting no affirmative response, he shook the man awake, careful to keep his distance in case he got aggressive.

In a burst of shudders and wheezes, Chilton woke to reality. He looked around frantically before his eyes met Will’s.

“What? What happened?” his voice was weak and shaky.

“Night terror,” Will told him. “You’re fine now. Safe.” He looked down fondly at the psychiatrist, whose hair was tousled and drenched in sweat. Chilton sighed heavily.

“I dreamt you sold me out to Jack Crawford.”

Will was stung a bit by this initially, but all it did in the long run was reaffirm his decision to let the man stay.

“It’s okay, Frederick,” he whispered, hoping his voice was strong enough to convince him. “Nobody is going to hurt you.” Again, in looking at the man, he saw himself. Scared, sweaty, and shaken by a nightmare too close to possible reality.

“Sorry I woke you,” Chilton muttered, pulling the sheets up to his chin.

“It’s fine,” Will told him. “But…”

“But what?” Frederick asked, yawning.

“You’re coming with me,” Will stated.

“Hm?”

“You’re sleeping in my bed,” the empath clarified, offering his hand to the other man.

“No, I’m okay. I’ll be fine,” Frederick tried to resist, but Will knew he didn’t even believe it himself. He could see it illuminated in the man's face, as much as he was trying to hide it. The fright that had slipped into dormancy was reawakened by the nightmare, and Chilton was struggling to deal with it.

“Frederick, I’m a long time soldier against nighttime terrors,” Will started to explain. “Being alone in this big room won’t help. I’m asking you to stay with me. Please.”

The man peered at him, gears turning in his brain, attempting to latch onto some conclusion. “Will Graham, are you asking me if I want to get laid?”

Will chuckled. “No. Just some nighttime company.”

“Oh,” Chilton said, finally kicking off the covers and standing up. “Well, I wouldn’t object, you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Will raised an eyebrow with a smirk, suddenly aware of how tight his boxer shorts were on his abdomen. He turned off the light and led the way into his room, Chilton in tow behind him. He climbed into bed, relishing in the warm heat of the sheets. Tentatively, Frederick slid in next to him.

They both stayed lying on their backs for some time. Neither man said a word. Surprisingly, Chilton fell asleep first, falling into a state of sweet unconscious comfort as he rolled onto his side, facing Will. His breath was hot on Will’s neck even from several inches away. Will looked over at his steadily breathing form, noticing how peaceful he looked in the boundaries of sleep.

Will woke up once in the middle of the night to find Chilton snuggled tight against him, face nuzzled into Will’s shoulder. their knees fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. An arm was wrapped around Will’s body. Normally, he didn’t like closeness, but here he was, laid out in bed with Frederick Chilton, each of them keeping the other safe. 

He moved backwards against Chilton a bit so there was no space between them, cradled into the man’s arms as he slept steady, no nightmares disrupting either of them now. Will drifted back into unconsciousness with him, feeling more content than he would have ever thought was possible to experience with Chilton in any state. It was a hard reality to come to terms with, but he was pleased with the final result.

**

When Will woke the next morning, Chilton was not next to him. A creepy sensation of panic went through him initially, but he soon classified it as ridiculous. The man had nowhere to go, so why would he even consider leaving? Nevertheless, Will hurried downstairs.

He was greeted with the sight of Chilton, hair floppy, standing in his living room holding a cup of hot coffee. He bore a sly smile, and it was then that Will realized the man was wearing a set of Will’s own pajamas.

Since Chilton was shorter than Will, the gray shirt was a bit big on him, not hugging his skin tightly like it did on Will. The shorts, however, were smaller on his muscular thighs, riding up a bit. His limp cock bulged noticeably against the fabric, concealed by the teal cloth but just barely. This made Will swallow hard, blood rushing in his head.

“Morning, Will,” Chilton said brightly, tilting his head a bit to the side. “I made coffee for you,” he held out the cup to Will, who took it from him. “I hope you don’t mind,” he added, gesturing to the clothes. “I was going to ask, but I didn’t want to wake you. I realized that in my hasty escape I did not throw any pajamas into my bags, and I noticed you have half a dozen sets of the same exact clothes so…” His voice trailed off as he noticed that Will was staring intently at him. “Please don’t be mad.”

“Oh, I’m very mad,” Will started carefully, making sure that his tone edged on teasing. “I’m completely furious.”

Frederick peered at him, looking for an explanation. He seemed to be on the verge of believing Will was kidding, but he wasn’t sure. He raised an eyebrow quizzically.

“God, Frederick, I can’t believe you,” a smile was spreading across Will’s face now. “Your ass looks so much better in those boxers than mine does. I’m absolutely livid.”

Chilton was smiling broadly now. “Mm, I beg to differ.”

Will shook off the compliment with a slight shaky laugh, feeling exactly like a hormonal teenager stuttering to talk to his crush. “You don’t need to ask,” Will told him. “My house is your house now, and I would prefer you to be comfortable since you can’t exactly go anywhere. I buy these pajamas in bulk from Costco. I can get you your own set if you’d like,” Noticing Chilton’s glare, he quickly added, “Or we can share.”

“I’d like that,” the man replied, coming forward to plant a kiss on Will’s lips.

The morning went by quickly despite Will’s lack of working cable television. Will only owned three DVDs—Air Bud, a documentary on fishing, and a copy of Se7en. Frederick scoffed at all of these choices, scolding himself for not bringing anything more interesting. However, Will quickly retaliated with a “Well, do you want to go home?” that shut the psychiatrist up.

Will would argue that the fishing documentary was fascinating, but Frederick kept dozing off. The man was coming to relax in Will’s company more and more, although every time a dove cooed or a hawk screeched outside, he jumped, looking around with wild eyes as if he expected Jack Crawford to come barging in and handcuff his wrists together. Will put an arm around the man to comfort him, stroking his shoulder softly.

When the documentary ended, Will turned to Frederick. “I’m going to start seeing Hannibal Lecter for therapy again.”

This did not sit well with Frederick. “You have a psychiatrist living under your roof,” he argued, eyes narrowed. “I am perfectly capable of continuing to provide you with everything he can offer you.”

“Yeah, but it’s not exactly ethical to be having an affair with my therapist,” Will retaliated, smiling triumphantly at the tinge of pink that burned Chilton’s ears at this statement. True, they hadn’t done anything besides kiss and cuddle since the initial shower, but Will wasn’t about to forget Frederick’s comment from late last night. “Besides, it’s suspicious if I don’t go back to Hannibal. I’m out of jail now. I have no reason to hide from him. In the long run, it’ll be easier to catch him if I make nice now.”

Chilton nodded. “I suppose so,” he looked down at the ground. “Just don’t tell him I’m here.”

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” Will asked, voice raised slightly.

“No, of course not,” the man replied, still staring at the ground. Will reasoned that having been betrayed by Hannibal, whom he had considered a friend, was a large part of his lack of trust towards everything else.

“Good, now that we’re clear,” Will peered at the man, raising his chin with a finger so Chilton was looking at him. “What do you know about giving haircuts?”

**Author's Note:**

> There will be more plot next chapter.  
> And fluff.  
> And smut. Lots more smut.


End file.
